


How National Geographic Saved Severus Snape

by suitesamba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cracky, Language, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus always thought the snake would be his downfall so, knowing the killing habits of giant venomous serpents, put certain protections in place. Harry, ever the hero, arrives at just the right time to perform a vital service.</p><p>This fic was written for the "Revive Severus" fest for the "Severus Sighs" comm on IJ and is intended to be a bit...cracky!</p>
            </blockquote>





	How National Geographic Saved Severus Snape

“Nagini!”

The snake, suddenly free of its orb-like prison, slithered toward the Headmaster, eyes as large as chicken eggs, tongue flicking out to taste the dark man’s fear. If Severus had been able to understood Parseltongue, he might have heard the snake’s strange little breathy exclamations as she talked to herself while she moved ever closer. _“This is no feast…too skinny...no meat…too old…greasy hair…will give me gas…”_

Severus, rooted on the spot, weaponless, defenseless, stared at the snake in growing horror, hoping beyond all hope that he’s guessed right about the creature, that the measures he’d taken, the painful protections he’d put in place that left his skin raw and discolored, would hold, would be enough.

“Kill him, Nagini. Feast on him, then join me…we will wait for the boy together.” The dry, serpent-like voice of the Dark Lord filled the room. “Farewell, Severus. You have been…a most faithful servant.”

The Dark Lord waited only a moment more, watching with disinterest as the great snake reared back then struck forward, as his trusted servant fell to the ground with the snake upon him. Without a backward glance, he strode out the door. “Nagini!”

The snake, suddenly free of its orb-like prison, slithered toward the Headmaster, eyes as large as chicken eggs, tongue flicking out to taste the dark man’s fear. If Severus had been able to understood Parseltongue, he might have heard the snake’s strange little breathy exclamations as she talked to herself while she moved ever closer. _“This is no feast…too skinny...no meat…too old…greasy hair…will give me gas…”_

Severus, rooted on the spot, weaponless, defenseless, stared at the snake in growing horror, hoping beyond all hope that he’s guessed right about the creature, that the measures he’d taken, the painful protections he’d put in place that left his skin raw and discolored, would hold, would be enough.

“Kill him, Nagini. Feast on him, then join me…we will wait for the boy together.” The dry, serpent-like voice of the Dark Lord filled the room. “Farewell, Severus. You have been…a most faithful servant.”

The Dark Lord waited only a moment more, watching with disinterest as the great snake reared back then struck forward, as his trusted servant fell to the ground with the snake upon him. Without a backward glance, he strode out the door. “Nagini!”

The snake, suddenly free of its orb-like prison, slithered toward the Headmaster, eyes as large as chicken eggs, tongue flicking out to taste the dark man’s fear. If Severus had been able to understood Parseltongue, he might have heard the snake’s strange little breathy exclamations as she talked to herself while she moved ever closer. _“This is no feast…too skinny...no meat…too old…greasy hair…will give me gas…”_

Severus, rooted on the spot, weaponless, defenseless, stared at the snake in growing horror, hoping beyond all hope that he’s guessed right about the creature, that the measures he’d taken, the painful protections he’d put in place that left his skin raw and discolored, would hold, would be enough.

“Kill him, Nagini. Feast on him, then join me…we will wait for the boy together.” The dry, serpent-like voice of the Dark Lord filled the room. “Farewell, Severus. You have been…a most faithful servant.”

The Dark Lord waited only a moment more, watching with disinterest as the great snake reared back then struck forward, as his trusted servant fell to the ground with the snake upon him. Without a backward glance, he strode out the door.

As Severus had anticipated, indeed, as he had hoped, the snake’s great head lunged for his neck, mouth hinged open, fangs dripping venom, intent on ripping open the flesh, piercing the jugular, severing the aorta. Severus’ hands flailed uselessly as the snake’s enormous mouth clamped down.

The sound of bone hitting metal rang out in the tiny, ramshackle room and a fang, as long as Severus’ hand, skitted across the floor and slid to a stop against a rickety chair. A disembodied hand reached out and scooted the fang backward until it disappeared into nothingness.

 _“Hard! Hurts! Ouch! Where is the blood? Where is the tender flesh?”_

The snake, foiled, confused, sporting a lopsided now only half-evil one-fanged sneer, but still smelling the promise of blood, struck again.

Clang!

The force of the blow had been particularly strong that time and the snake fell back, stunned. Severus lay gasping on the floor, struggling to breathe, while from the corner of the room where the fang had disappeared a green-eyed, rash, impetuous Gryffindor dropped his invisibility cloak and sprang forward. At the same instant, another Gryffindor, tall and lanky, covered in bruises and cuts, charged out from the room’s doorway, wielding a red and gold scarf in one hand and the Sword of Gryffindor in the other.

“Dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Neville shouted as he pushed Harry aside, pounced on the snake and wrapped the scarf around its neck, just below its head. Using strength born of pure adrenaline, he tightened the scarf, wrestling with the now thrashing snake until its convulsing body stilled enough for him to behead it with one clean, brazenly left-handed swipe of the gleaming sword.

“Nice work, Nev,” shouted Harry, silently cheering his friend’s theatrics as he otherwise ignored the gory scene and stumbled over to the fallen Headmaster. He fell to his knees on the dusty, creaky floor and bent his ear to the man’s chest.

“He’s not breathing,” he cried out, voice anguished, to his friends. While Ron and Hermione had followed him out from the corner of the room where all three had been hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, they were now standing frozen beside Neville, gaping at the massive decapitated serpent head and the odd gray smoke rising out of it.

“Give him mouth-to-mouth,” instructed Hermione as she wrenched her gaze away then slid through a pool of sticky, quickly coagulating serpent blood to reach Harry and the possibly deceased Headmaster. “Tip his head back first—raise his neck from behind with your hand.” She dropped her bag on the floor and rooted through it, pulling out a large bottle of ibuprofen and a pair of latex gloves. “Here, take these.”

She tossed the gloves toward Harry who swatted them away.

“Latex allergy, remember?” He grasped Severus neck with his left hand and…

“What the fuck?!?!”

Harry’s hands started to scrabble against the nearly Shakespearean collar of the Headmaster’s robes, pulling down the fabric, ripping cloth, sending buttons flying off, dancing and pinging across the ancient wooden floor.

“What the fuck?” repeated Hermione, dropping to her knees across from Harry next to the Headmaster’s prone form as she saw what Harry had revealed.

But Harry, thinking faster than Hermione for a change, pointed his wand at Snape’ neck.

“Engorgio!” he said and the ornamental copper rings that adorned Snape’s neck, all twelve of them, slightly crushed from the snake’s attack and pushing against his larynx, expanded until they were large enough for Harry to slip over the man’s head.

Severus took a deep breath. His hands clawed at his neck instinctively.

“Copper neck stretching rings?” exclaimed Hermione, horrified. “But…but …that’s barbaric! The weight of the rings disfigures the collar bone and ribs, giving the false appearance that the neck is longer and more shapely….”

“Can it, Hermione. They saved his life,” said Harry. Without another word, he removed a tube of lip balm from his pocket, applied it to his chapped lips, muttered “Ah, cinnamon,” and bent to affix his lips over the Headmaster’s.

“Harry….” Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. He shrugged her hand away. His hand was fisted in the front of the Headmaster’s robes.

“Harry—that’s not breathing. That’s _kissing._ ”

“Merlin’s twitching titties—Harry’s kissing _Snape_!” exclaimed Ron, edging in closer to get a better look, both fascinated and repulsed.

Neville, however, was paying no attention to the spectacle of the Chosen One bent over the evil Headmaster, either breathing life back into his lungs or snogging him senseless depending on one’s interpretation of the scene. The thrill of the kill overcoming his ordinary reserved demeanor, Neville speared the snake’s head with the tip of his weapon and, sword raised high over his head to display his trophy, charged back out of the Shrieking Shack.

By this time, the Headmaster’s right hand had come up to grasp Harry’s head, potion and ink-stained fingers splayed. Ron and Hermione watched, mesmerized, as those fingers played in their friend’s hair, then grasped his head, pulling him closer. Strange sounds, half moans, half gasps, arose from the older man, making both Ron and Hermione twinge uncomfortably. Hermione fanned herself while Ron crossed his legs self-consciously.

“Harry…I think he’s in pain….” This time it was Ron who issued the warning, staring in horror at his friend.

The Headmaster’s leg jerked.

“He’s convulsing!” Ron exclaimed. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Harry’s shoulders, pulling him back and off the dying Headmaster.

Snape’s eyes flew open. He looked dazed.

Hermione left Ron to deal with Harry.

“Don’t you have something for us, Headmaster?” she hissed softly, pulling a small glass vial out of her pocket and holding it in front of his face. She studiously ignored the obvious tent in his robes.

The dark eyes traveled over to Harry, catching him elbowing Ron in the gut to escape.

“Something…. Oh, right. Of course, Miss Granger.” Severus’ voice was raspy and weak but he fumbled in his pocket for his wand with one hand while he wiped off his mouth with the back of the other.

“Allow me,” suggested Hermione, placing her wand at his temple while Snape continued to gaze at Harry, who had succeeded in elbowing Ron in the groin and was standing up now across from Hermione, staring at the prone Headmaster. The two locked eyes as Hermione pulled the wand away from Snape’s temple, the gossamer thread thickening, lengthening, lengthening, then finally pulling off and twitching as with a life of its own. She dropped it quickly into the vial and corked it.

Severus eyed the vial, hoping that those stray memories of his Potter-inspired wank sessions hadn’t somehow escaped him along with the memories of Lily. After all, it was sometimes hard to separate one set of vibrant green eyes from the other.

“Thank you,” Hermione said politely. “Harry and Ron, come on. We’ve got a Dark Lord to kill.”

One last lingering look, a quick handoff of the lip ointment from Harry to Severus, and they were gone.

 __

~ Forty-five Minutes Later ~

“Ron, really, stop it. We always knew, deep down, that Harry was a Horcrux, even if we never said it out loud. Get control of yourself! You’ve about thrown up everything in your stomach anyway.”

“It’s…it’s…”

“What, Ron? What is it? Tell me.”

“It’s…revolting! Wanking under his desk while we were all right in front of him brewing! Brewing Polyjuice and changing into Harry so he could wank as Harry! Hiring Fred to Polyjuice into Harry and entertain him with an erotic pole dance!”

“I know, Ron. But we can’t get caught up in that now….” Her brow suddenly furled and she turned toward Ron, hands on her hips. “Wait! That last one wasn’t in those memories! How do you know…?”

“Never mind.”

 __

~ Not Quite 19 Year Later ~

“You know, we wouldn’t be here today if you’d bothered to tell me about your latex allergy _before_ I put that condom on.”

“How was I to know the condom was latex?” whispered Harry. “I assumed you’d be using sheepskin.”

“As if I could afford sheepskin condoms on a Headmaster’s salary!” hissed Severus.

“You could have stopped,” hissed back Harry. “We could have waited and ordered them by owl-post.”

“Hmmph,” said Severus.

“Or I could have topped. You were probably too old to get pregnant anyway….”

“Too old? I’ll have you know I could produce a child today if I ….”

“Shhh! They’re starting the Ps!”

“Potter-Snape, Blake Johann.” The Headmistress shook their son’s hand as he walked across the stage to receive his diploma.

“Yea BJ!” called out Teddy Lupin from beside Harry. Around them, several people snickered.

“I still can’t believe we named our child BJ,” said Severus with a deep sigh, smiling nonetheless and clapping rather enthusiastically for their Gryffindor son who, thankfully, was a better Potions brewer than Quidditch Player.

Harry reached over and took Severus’ hand, playing idly with the gold band around his ring finger and thinking of those other rings, the twelve copper rings that had shielded Severus’ neck from the poisonous fangs of Nagini.

“You know,” he said, “I never did ask. What made you decide to use copper neck rings to protect yourself?”

Severus shrugged. “I was planning for after the war—where I would vacation if I survived. I had some travel catalogues from Burma….”

Harry scoffed. “Don’t give me that! You didn’t think you’d survive the war.”

“Hmmph,” said Severus.

“National Geographic in the faculty loo?” asked Harry a moment later, hand sneaking around Severus’ waist as the school song everyone around them had been singing out of key and off beat ended and the graduates cheered and threw their formal wizard hats into the air.

Severus pierced Harry with an amused glance.

“Quite.”

 _Fin_


End file.
